


Wow, Rude

by ChocolateKid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alastair Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Annoyed Castiel, Customer Castiel, Cute, Fluff, Gay Castiel, Loner Castiel, M/M, Misunderstandings, Possessive Dean, Protective Dean, Rude Dean, Teasing, Waiter Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateKid/pseuds/ChocolateKid
Summary: Dean's the new waiter at Castiel's favorite café. The only problem: He's justrude.But is he really being an ass to Castiel or is it all a misunderstanding?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by last week's episode S12E10. You don't need to have seen it, don't worry. I also won't spoil anything but if you've seen the episode, you'll probably know what my inspiration was. The idea was just too cute not to write down.
> 
> I hope it turned out the way I hoped. I'm not quite sure yet but it's good enough in my opinion.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Cas's POV**

College was alright, really. To be honest, I'd expected _far_ worse... It turned out to be a pleasant surprise, way more relaxed than high school, and if you had the right roommate, college was actually great. There was no reason to complain, really.

If there wasn't this _one_ guy who kept bugging me...

His name was Dean, as far as I knew -that was what his name tag said, anyway- and he'd just recently started working at the café I usually spent my lunch break in.

And there was no other way to describe it, the guy was _rude_ , plain and simple. The first time he'd taken my order, he'd scoffed at me and made fun of how I'd totally just ordered a 'girls' drink'. (Apparently, a latte was considered a girls' drink now.)

His behavior irritated me to the _core_ but I never showed him just how much it annoyed me. I was pretty sure his rudeness would just get worse that way, so I let it slip.

The question was, of course, why did I still spend my lunch break in that same exact café? Well, I dare you to take a bite of their strawberry cheesecake and _not_ want to come back.

I simply had to put up with Dean.

"What does the weirdo want today?" Dean asked and smirked at me when I sat down in my usual booth. It was the one at the far end of the café that was mostly hidden from other guests' eyes. I needed that privacy.

"I'll take--" I started but Dean interrupted me.

"Oh right, I forgot!" he exclaimed, pretending to just remember. "You never order anything else. You'll take a latte, of course. Want a cake, too, this time?" he asked because I didn't always order one.

I nodded reluctantly, not calling him out on his rudeness even though I had to bite my cheek hard to refrain from doing so. It had only been two weeks but Dean was already convinced he knew enough about my eating and drinking habits to say stuff like that.

The rudest thing was though, he _always_ let me start talking first, before he suddenly 'remembered' and interrupted me in the most annoying way possible.

It was driving me nuts.

"Be right back, weirdo," Dean said with a smirk and thankfully, left.

I groaned to myself but leaned back in my seat, a little more relaxed. As soon as Dean wasn't there anymore, I always felt more at ease. He made me uncomfortable and pissed me off.

Focusing back on my college life, I took out the paper for my anthropology class I'd been planning to go over, searching for any mistakes I'd made. The paper was due today and it was somewhat important, so it was my last chance to make changes, really. I didn't think I'd need any though.

"Castiel Novak..." a voice right next to me suddenly muttered, a mocking tone in his voice, and I almost jumped in surprise. Dean was looking over my shoulder, studying the paper curiously, or more so the name written at the top.

"Knew you'd have a really fancy name," Dean scoffed and unceremoniously set my order down in front of me. "What kind of name even is _Castiel_?" he wanted to know and looked at me skeptically.

I didn't want to reply. I didn't want him to know my name either. I just wanted him to leave me alone!

I stayed quiet.

"Cat got your tongue?" Dean asked and an annoyed scowl appeared on his face. I generally didn't like people looking at me disapprovingly, so I responded reluctantly.

"It's an angel's name," I said, not explaining any further. I took hold of the fork and dug into my food, hoping that Dean would get the hint. I really wanted this conversation to end.

Dean did get the hint.

He scoffed one last time and muttered something under his breath that suspiciously sounded like, "Alright then, enjoy your cake, _angel_ ," and left.

He probably had work to do anyway.

* * *

"Why are you always alone, man? You sit in the last booth every day and don't talk to anybody, ever. Don't you have any friends?" Dean greeted me the next time I saw him, that mocking tone in his voice again. I closed my eyes, trying to keep calm, and took a deep breath.

"I prefer not to be distracted during lunch breaks," I grumbled, semi-aggressive. I was mostly working on papers anyway, I really did have better stuff to do than converse with other students.

"Alright, whatever makes you happy," Dean said and threw his hands up in mock-surrender. I tried hard to refrain from rolling my eyes.

"Anyway, what do you want today?" he changed the topic.

Was it really too much to ask for a polite, 'May I take your order?' or even a, 'What would you like to drink?'

Apparently, it was.

"I'll have a--" I started, only waiting for Dean to interrupt me, and of course he did.

"Ah, sorry, I keep on forgetting!" he exclaimed, tapping his temple with his pen. "A latte and a strawberry cheesecake?" he suggested smugly and I could feel my blood boiling.

"Minus the cake, yes," I decided, because even if I kinda did want the cake, I wasn't gonna give Dean the satisfaction.

"Mm-hm," Dean muttered, an eyebrow cocked, and I knew he didn't buy it. He left without a comment.

When he came back, he had my latte with him and the cake I didn't order.

"You know you want it," Dean said and smirked at me in that arrogant way of his. I fixed him with a glare, but took it reluctantly. It was already there, what was I supposed to do?

If I was gonna have to pay for this one though, I'd definitely complain to the manager.

...I did not have to pay.

* * *

A few days later, I embarrassed myself. Not that that didn't happen often enough...

Dean set down the cake and drink in front of me and I reached my hand out to take a sip and -- knocked the cup over.

It spilled all over the table and I struggled to get up to avoid getting any of it on my pants. The puddle on the table was constantly spreading further and further and I couldn't help but groan at my clumsiness.

"Damn it," I cursed and quickly turned to the counter to retrieve a cloth or something to wipe up the mess, but Dean was already next to me.

"God, Cas, you're such an idiot sometimes," he mumbled and pushed the plate and cup into my hands. "Hold those while I clean this mess up."

I didn't protest. It was my fault after all, I should probably be thankful that Dean was the one wiping it up -- insult or not.

I couldn't help but watch Dean working, his muscled arms distracting me from my misery momentarily. I knew he was a rude asshole, but objectively speaking, he was a good-looking guy. Hell, great-looking!

I'd obviously never admit that for the life of me though.

When Dean was finally done, I set my stuff down on the table and muttered a reluctant, "Thanks," in Dean's direction, but he ignored it pointedly. Instead, he looked me up and down, a frown on his face.

"You got your coat dirty," he noted dryly and I glanced down on myself. He was right. There was a dark coffee stain where I apparently wasn't fast enough to get out of the booth.

"Oh, damn it," I muttered again, trying to get the stain out by rubbing my hand over it. Needless to say, that didn't work.

"What is it with you and that trench coat anyway? You wanna be some kind of accountant?" Dean continued, sounding mocking but a little annoyed, and he handed me his cloth to try and get the stain out.

It helped better than my hand had.

"I asked you a question," Dean repeated impatiently and I looked up quickly. "Why are you always ignoring me?"

I blinked, taken aback, and frowned slightly.

"Um... Sorry... I didn't mean to. I was distracted," I apologized, without really knowing why. Dean was the rude one, not me. Why _wouldn't_ I ignore him? "It was my dad's coat. I value it highly."

"Your dad dead?" Dean asked and I scowled at how easily he blurted out sentences like that.

"No. He's not. Just very busy," I said and sat back down. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a cake that still needs to be eaten."

"Sure, idiot," he replied and walked back to the counter.

I started eating.

* * *

If you believed Dean to be bad, Alastair was downright _evil_. Thankfully, I didn't have the misfortune to see him very often but when I did, I never got away without a few hurtful comments.

And because luck hadn't been on my side for a long while, of course he appeared during my lunch break.

"Well, well, well! Who do we have here?" Alastair's nasal voice snarled from behind me and he laughed loudly. He sat down across from me, eyeing me up with a smirk.

"If that isn't _Asstiel_ ," he mocked and laughed at his own joke. I didn't think it was particularly funny. And I especially didn't think it was funny when he talked loud enough for the rest of the room to hear.

"What do you want, Alastair?" I asked quietly, trying to get him to lower his volume as well. It worked only a little.

"Is that a strawberry cheesecake?" he laughed, making fun of me again, and I flinched slightly. "Isn't that a _girl's_ dish?" he added, sickly sweet.

"I-- I kinda like it," I answered hesitantly, knowing that if I didn't reply at all, whatever Alastair was gonna do would be way worse.

"Oh, really? That's wonderful!" Alastair exclaimed and I flinched again, closing my eyes in fear. He was gonna do or say something mean any second now, I knew it. He always did.

"Guess I should call you _Cassandra_ then, shouldn't I?" he proposed, but I didn't react. Just get it over with.

"You know what, you big baby in a trench coat?" he suddenly lowered his voice and leaned over the table towards me. I backed away as far as I could, which really wasn't all that far. I closed my eyes again, ready for whatever was coming. "I simply can't stand you," Alastair continued conversationally. "You're just such a filthy, little fa--"

He was interrupted by an exasperated shout. His own shout, I realized.

"Fucking hell!?" he yelled, pissed off and sounding like he was in pain, and I opened my eyes slightly. The sight in front of me threw me off completely.

Dean was standing in front of our booth, an empty cup of coffee in his hands. It was turned upside down and held right above Alastair's now coffee-dripping head. Dean had spilled the hot drink all over him. Completely on purpose!

"Oops. I'm so sorry," Dean said monotonously, not sounding sorry at all. "My hand just slipped right there."

"What are you, an idiot?" Alastair screamed again and wiped away some of the liquid running down his forehead. "That shit's fucking hot!"

"Well, so's Cas, so you better leave him the fuck alone, asshole," Dean said, sounding dangerous. A weirdly pleasant shudder went down my spine. Was Dean _protecting_ me?

"What, are you his boyfriend or something?" Alastair scoffed but still stood up carefully. If I were him, I'd be fucking scared of Dean, too.

"I might be. That's none of your business though. Get the fuck out of here," Dean answered and glared at him. I'd never seen Dean this mad at anyone before. It was scary, but it was also strangely satisfying that he was this mad at Alastair because of what he had said to _me_.

Alastair didn't add another word and set his jaw angrily instead, fleeing the café proudly.

Dean's glare could apparently work wonders.

When the dick was finally gone, Dean's anger deflated quickly and he sat down right next to me. He flashed me a soft smile.

"You okay, angel?" he asked and I nodded slightly. I was more than okay, actually.

"Seriously though, why'd you let him talk to you like that?" Dean asked, seeming genuinely interested, and I frowned at him.

" _You_ talk to me like that all the time," I said and frowned, recollecting all the times Dean had made fun of me for my girly choices or called me an idiot.

"Yeah, but you know I don't mean it like that," Dean said, an eyebrow lifted in surprise. "It's all in good fun."

"Uh... I actually did not know that, Dean," I replied carefully, a little confused because of that revelation.

"Wait, seriously?" Dean asked and huffed out a small laugh. "I was _teasing_ , you idiot. Because you're cute as fuck!"

"You think I'm--" I started, eyes opening widely, but I couldn't find the words to finish the sentence.

"Yeah, man," Dean laughed again. "God, you must've thought I was a complete asshole."

His laugh was contagious and soon enough I was laughing with him.

"Well, I did think you were rather rude," I admitted and studied Dean's face with a slight smile.

He grinned back at me. "You know, you really _are_ an idiot though," he told me and winked. "But you're _my_ idiot."

"Take me on a date first," I joked, smirking, not intending my words to be taken seriously.

Well...

That evening turned out to be one of the nicest ones in a while.


End file.
